| She wants to give up love for good
|
| She kicks the fence and splits the wood
|
| She cries her eyes out in the rain
|
| She swears aloud and so again
|
| She feels messed around
|
| She takes her coat off as it pours
|
| The passing daytime she ignores
|
| Sits with a problem on a bench
|
| And with her heel she digs a trench
|
| She feels messed around
|
| She rips her skirt and tears her dress
|
| Climbing over his garden fence
|
| Mud on her mourning as tears still fall
|
| She’s in no mood for his love at all
|
| She feels messed around
|
| Her door won’t shut, her match won’t light
|
| The bulb went out, her skirts too tight
|
| She feels messed around
|
| The words don’t match, her heart won’t heal
|
| The phone won’t pip, her fruit won’t peel
|
| She feels messed around
|
| She left herself open for him all the time
|
| But always kept off of his cloud
|
| All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
|
| Have come to mess her around
|
| She wants to give up love for good
|
| She kicks the fence and splits the wood
|
| She cries her eyes out in the rain
|
| She swears aloud and so again
|
| She feels messed around
|
| She feels messed around
|
| She feels messed around |